


you opiate this hazy head of mine

by barbiemalik



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Like, M/M, all sorts of smut, also i know it starts off sounding like zarry but its not theyre simply best mates, also its an AU, also louis and harry dont know its a blind date, also theres a lil ziam, and also eleanor isnt playing eleanor in this shes just there youll see, and it goes fine but they dont see themselves as much more than friends, and they pretend to have a horrendous breakup to make it look real, but after about a month or so, but if youre here for a ziam fic, but theres also major smut, by pretending to date, i hope you truly enjoy this because i still cant believe im writing this, its all larry, its fate for them because its louis and harry u feel, so like their asshole friends are just assholes, so they decide to play a prank on their mates, so this fic is based off of a textpost from tumblr, so typical louis and harry, so yeah that whole date theyre planning to scheme against their friends, they cant tell the difference between whats real and whats fake, this isnt it, where louis and harry are set up on a blind date by their mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbiemalik/pseuds/barbiemalik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(based off of a tumblr text post) AU where louis and harry are set up on a blind date by their friends, but unfortunately, they don't know its a blind date. so when they meet, they decide to plan the whole date scheming against their friends by pretending to date. but after planning out a horrendous breakup after 2 months or so of this charade, they aren't quite able to find the difference between what's real and what's fake anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! im olivia, and this text post i found really caught my eye so basically instead of waiting for someone else to write it, i decided why not i write it? i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

It's 12:53 in the afternoon when a buzzing rustles in the corner of Harry's room, under a pile of unclean articles of clothing. Harry moans and groans until the buzzing stops. He's just getting comfortable again, tangling himself in white sheets and scratchy pillows, when the buzzing starts up again. This time, Harry decides to get up. Not for the sake of whoever is ringing him, that is. Harry gets up because he knows that if he doesn't get up now, it'll just keep buzzing until his head starts ringing. Rummaging through dirty underwear and over worn shirts, he finds his phone. 2 missed calls and 1 voice message lie there from no other than Zayn Malik. Harry calls back, hoping he won't have to wait long, as Zayn picks up on the second ring.

"Mate 've been calling you all morning. Where you been? It's almost 1. Bloody hell."

"Heeey, I didn't get much sleep last night. Niall dragged me home around 3. 'M exhausted. Let me sleep."

Zayn can't help but question Harry's night. "What were you two up to? He drag ya to another gay bar? Try 'n get you with some guy who could easily suck you off in the toilet?"

"No, actually. Wrong you are, Malik. We went to a straight bar, and let me tell you, it was dreadful. Never seen more girls packed into one place. Niall was all over 'em. Not my type of place, I guess."

"Yeah, yeah that's awful. Liam and I went out to dinner last night at this nice place called Rosco's. Quite good, actually. Tasted like me mum's cooking." Zayn pauses for a second. Harry knows Zayn hasn't seen his mum in a couple months. He's always too busy to catch up with her. "Anyways," he continues, "That's why I called you. Dinner. Tonight. Me and you, on me. Haven't seen you much lately, man. Gotta catch up."

"Yeah sure, love. What time?"

"Was thinking around 7. Is that alright?" Harry mumbles a 'yes' and it's left at that. 7:00 at Rosco's. If Harry can even find it, that is.

Harry sleepily drags himself out of the comfort of his blanket fort and walks back over to the pile, hoping to find at least one clean shirt. But, with Harry's luck, he's bound to never find one he desires. It's been hard for Harry to be himself lately. He's kind of secluded himself from his mates, not because he doesn't care to see them, but because they're all out and about with dates. And while they're out and about with their dates, Harry is still struggling to even find a proper one night stand kind of shag. Not that he isn't attractive, which is the weird part. His long, curly, locks and bouncing green eyes could leave any man in a downright shock. But for Harry, he doesn't see it. He's kind, genuine, caring. All anyone could ever look for. Maybe he's just overthinking it. But in reality, it's been over 6 months since Harry has been fucked. Even longer since Harry's been on a real date. Forever since Harry's felt that he could be in the position to find "the one". Maybe Harry doesn't see what's going on on the other side, and what the night has in store for him.

~

"Get up, you lazy bum." Zayn shakes Louis through the endless layers of blankets. He can barely make out his body with this much covering him.

"Mate, I told you to _fuck off_. If you really think I'm getting out of this bed, you're delusional. I'm wiped and still drunk, might I say."

"No need to be harsh, Tomlinson. I've come to ask for your hand in marriage."

"For god's sake, Zayn, I'm going to fucking kill you. Leave me be. I need my beauty sleep." Louis peeks his head out of a slit in the blanket and sticks his middle finger out. Then, he resumes to his sleeping position.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, mate. 've actually got a question for you."

"And what would that be, my prince?"

"Shutup you wanker. Well, as I was going to say, Liam and I went out for a lovely dinner last nig-"

Louis interrupts him. "I'd rather not hear about your sex life. I'm sulking. Need sex. Super horny."

"Alright, don't be a dick, and also, I don't wanna hear how horny you are once again. This isn't about me and Liam fucking. It's about me and you. Dinner. Tonight. At Rosco's. Surely you've been there before, ey?"

"Yeah, went with me mum and sisters a couple months back. Why are you taking me to dinner, Malik?"

"To catch up. Just thought it'd be nice. 7:00. Yes or no, Tomlinson?"

"Fine. But let me fucking sleep. Still got 6 hours."

Zayn leaves without another word. Boy, does it feel good to be doing something right in the world. Not only is Zayn completing the ultimate plan, but he's got Liam to help him out too. Oh, and Niall. But Niall is Niall.

And Louis is Louis. And Harry is Harry. And they'd be perfect. Zayn's almost positive he's gotten his plan perfectly perfected when his phone buzzes from the back of his pocket. It's Harry.

"I have no bloody clue what to wear, mate."

"Haz, first of all, it's me. You really think I give a shit?"

"Well, for all I know you could be setting me up. Watch some guy show up in place of you, 'm?"

Zayn feels his heart skip a beat, and his stomach drop out of his ass. "Ridiculous you would say that, mate. It's just us. Wear whatever."

Nervously, Zayn hits the 'end call' button before Harry gets any more suspicious. Maybe hanging up could make Harry more suspicious. But hey, what's the worst that could happen?


	2. Chapter 2

Louis wakes up at around 3:00 to a knock on his apartment door. Lazily, he gets up, throws on his sweats (because hey, who sleeps with pants on anyways?), and jogs to the door.

"My love! Kisses, kisses." A face busts through.

It's no other than his best friend, Eleanor, who enters in without hesitation. She kisses his cheek, left to right, with one hand behind her back.

Louis rolls his eyes, mimicking them going to the back of his head. He notices, as she steps in the door, that with her 1 inch heels on, she's over a foot taller than him. Lou has never been the tallest of his friends.

"What is it, darling?" Louis bows as he says this, and Eleanor smacks him across the back of his head.

"Don't be a shit, Lou. I've come to help you get ready, of course!"

"Love, I'm only going out with Zayn. He's my  _mate._ Plus, he's got a boyfriend. It's simply a friendly night of conversation over a bowl of pasta."

"Well, 'erm, I just wanted to stop by. I've brought some goodies. Like, like this!" Eleanor holds up 2 bags that she's been holding behind her this whole time.

"You didn't have to do this, El. It's literally just dinner. With  _Zayn._ "

"Yeah, yeah, shutup. Just thought of you when I saw these, so I thought I'd buy them." Louis gives her a look. "I'm joking," she sweats, "It's not for tonight. Just in general. An early birthday present, maybe?"

"Don't bullshit me. It's May. But I don't care, gimme a look."

Without question, Eleanor pulls out a shiny suit, tie, and white button up.

"Oh, I almost forgot. 've got pants too!"

"Darling, darling. You're too much," Louis says with his prissy royal voice. He kisses her cheek, although even with his best friend, kissing any part of a girl has never been his favorite thing to do. 

~

A doorbell rings at around 3:35 at Harry's flat. Harry's the type to be all dressed and cleanly tided up, and never the one to look sloppy when someone shows up at his door. No matter who it is. Harry Styles is always ready for the day.

Except for today. He's still deciding between a pair of black booties or a pair of brown booties. And, unfortunately, it's been over 2 hours. 

He groggily answers the door to his best mate. Ed.

"Hey, hey mate. How are ya?" Harry welcomes Ed with a warm hug.

"I'm good, yeah. You're not wearing pants. You realize that, ey?"

"Oh, oh shit. Sorry man. I, um," Harry stutters to get his words out as he jumps up and down into a pair of black skinny jeans he's found on the floor, along with what looks like a tornado of his closet spread across his room, over chairs, under the bed, on top of his kitchen counter.

"So, you're probably wondering why 'm here," Ed says to break the silence and awkwardness of Harry wrestling with the buttons on his jeans.

"Yeah, I guess. 'm guessing it's important?"

"Well, no, not really. I bought you some stuff. Zayn rung me up 'n told me you were struggling with finding stuff to wear. So, I bought you some new shoes. They're quite nice, actually. Picked 'em out meself."

"Wow, thanks man. I, erm, what'd you do that for? Like, um, besides Zayn telling you to. Like, what's he up to?"

"Nothing, I don't think. But I've got to catch a train. Got a gig in 'bout an hour or so. I'll leave the bag here." Ed leaves without another word. This whole morning hasn't been quite normal at all.

Harry reaches for the bag, pulls out the box within the bag, and opens up to a pair of new black, shiny, boots. They're unbelievably attractive. Yet, Harry can't seem to enjoy seeing them as much as he thought he would. He's caught up in the fact that Ed stopped over, unannounced, to drop off new boots. Yeah, totally not suspicious at all. But instead of questioning it and stressing himself out even more, he drops it. To get his mind off of the day, Harry grabs his keys from the rack by his flat door, and steps out into the fresh spring air. Why not go for a ride?

So, Harry does. He goes for a long car ride, blasting the 1975 and Ed's mixtapes while at the same time managing to focus on the potholes ahead of him. He's been living in London for quite a while now, yet he's never gotten used to how many bumps are actually in the road. He's managed to pop his tires twice since he's moved here. But, despite the hassle, Harry loves driving. He's never been the one to pass up an opportunity to drive somewhere rather than take the train or walk. He loves the scenery. He loves his music. He loves life when he drives. For some reason, driving calms him down. It keeps him happy when he's sad, and loved when he's lonely. It's like everything that could ever be bad disappears. Suddenly, as Harry is driving, the anxiety fades away. He feels like he's alive again. It isn't the first time it's happened.

As Harry drives back home, after an hour ride to himself, his phone rings. It's Nick. What in bloody hell could Nick fucking Grimshaw want at this hour? He picks it up anyways, because being Harry, the lad can't leave someone hanging. He's too nice for that.

"Nick."

"Haaazzaaaa! How are you?"

"Just fine, mate. 'Erm, why are you calling? Something happen?"

"Just checking up. Haven't talked in a while, plus, 've left a package at your door. Noticed you weren't home so I'd thought I'd call ya. Didn't want you to think a random was dropping bombs at your door, ey?"

"Thanks for the warning. Never would have known. What's the package, Nick? 've been getting packages all day, it's weird. Did Zayn set you up for this?"

"Course not, mate. All me. I think it's a surprise. When I say I think it's a surprise, it is. Yeah, it is."

"You're weird. I'll text you once 'm home. Don't wanna call and drive."

"Harry, you dumbass, it's legal to call and drive."

"Well, 'm almost home. I'll talk to you once I've opened the package. Deal?"

"Yeah, okay Styles. Hurry home!"

On that end note, Harry tries his best to hurry home as Nick has told him. What a little shit.

At the foot of Harry's doorstep, sitting atop his 'Welcome Home' mat, is a brown box. Nick's package, he assumes. Maybe a bomb. Who knows.  
Harry picks it up, shakes it around to hear what's inside, and rummages for his keys in his back pocket to open the door. Once he's inside, he places the package on his kitchen table. He grabs a pair of scissors from a drawer and cuts open the tape wrapped tightly around each opening. 

Under what seems like endless layers of bubble wrap is another small box. It's black, and long like it contains a necklace. But, knowing Nick, there's no way in hell it's a necklace. Instead, it's a scarf, folded over a couple times to fit. It's orange and blue, and looks expensive. Harry knows exactly what it is.

"Nick, a headscarf? Really? What the shit am I going to need a headscarf for."

"Dunno," Nick muffles through the speaker, "Just thought it'd be fun. Wear it tonight maybe? Show me how it looks?"

"Yeah, sure, you freak. Keep in touch."

At this point, Harry's too chilled out to worry about these suspicious presents from his best mates. If they're happy, he's even happier. It's just who Harry is.


	3. Chapter 3

"Perrrrrieeeee," Zayn whines, "Pass me my phone love?"

Perrie has been Zayn's best friend since Grade 8. She's a lovely friend, and even helped him come out to his family. She's a good friend of Liam's too, which is great. She's always over Zayn and Liam's flat for company, and is very easily entertained. Give her a bottle of wine and a movie and she'll leave you alone for days. Her and Zayn and sitting on the couch while Liam cooks one of  Jamie Oliver's 15 minute meals. Fucking Niall got him in the habit.

"Yeah, sure hun. How's Hazza? And Lou? How's the plan going?"

"Not soiled yet!" shouts Liam from the kitchen. 

"Shutup, you little shit. Or I'll give it to ya later."

Liam stops in his tracks. "Shall I keep going then?"

Perrie pretends to throw up, and adds, "Oh, will you two  _shut up_. It's disgusting. You've got me horny and I'm still single. Fuck both of you."

Zayn throws himself over to Perrie's side of the couch. "We loooove you, Pearbear." Perrie can't help but laugh. Zayn's cute when he tries to apologize. "Anyways, the plan is going great so far. Almost all of the packages are delivered and I don't think either of 'em are too suspicious. Odd how neither of them own a fucking suit. Disgusting. Honestly, you think I wanted to spend money on those two little shits? Don't even know each other and I know they're going to be destructive. My life is ruined. What the  _fuck_ am I doing?"

"Love, it'll all work itself out. Lou will love Harry, you know he will. And Harry's pretty desperate. He'd fuck a horse if he could."

"Lovely, you are, Ms. Edwards," Liam jokes.

~

It's around 5:00 when the final package arrives. At least Louis hopes it's the last package. And the last person. Eleanor was enough for one day.

Luckily, when Louis opens his door, no one is there. But there is a package. And there is a note. 

"From your very best mate, Stan. For your quiff"

"Fucking Stan." Louis says to himself. He tends to talk to himself a lot. It's quite lonely living in an apartment all by yourself, but he never really notices it until he realizes he's constantly talking to himself. But, being Louis, he shakes it off. 

Lou opens the package to find a pot of gel. What a dick.

So far, Louis has a suit. A fucking suit. And a pot of gel. Well, with all of these free presents, why not use them towards his "date" with Zayn? Louis rarely gets dressed up. Usually he's banging around in his Adidas sweatpants and sweatshirt. It's all he owns, and with that, he could probably be their model.

He calls up Zayn. "You little  _shit_. These fucking presents I'm getting remind me of that movie, you know, where the kid gets presents for his Secret Santa or some shit and then has to go to the bathroom to find his final present? You know?"

"You're strange. Nice to know you've enjoyed people giving stuff to you. You sound eternally grateful."

"I am, you dick. Just confused. You wouldn't happen to have any part in this, would you?"

"No way. Don't even know what presents you're talking 'bout."

"You shit."

Louis hangs up before Zayn can speak another word. There's no doubt in his mind that Zayn is up to some part in this. Why all this for some shit "date" at Rosco's? If he wanted to suck him off, he could've just asked politely. He didn't have to put Liam through this pain if he's wanted him all along! Louis thinks these condescending thoughts often. He knows Zayn has always wanted him. I mean, who wouldn't? He's charming. Beautiful. What kind of guy is beautiful? Louis Tomlinson. He's never had a problem with self esteem. Louis has always been superior. And frankly, he'd like it to stay that way. No matter what in the hell happens tonight.

~

So. A headscarf and a pair of boots. How lovely that is, and how coincidental that Harry has received these presents on the night he's supposedly going out with Zayn. But it's Zayn, and he knows Zayn too well. Zayn wouldn't lie to him.

It's almost 6 now. Harry spent over an hour in the shower, just as he always does. It takes him a long time to wash his hair, he always says. But now, he's got less than an hour to get ready entirely. He's got to leave by 6:45 just in case he gets lost. Zayn wouldn't really care if he was fashionably late, but hey, nice to be nice and arrive on time, innit?

Harry tries on 4 outfits before he's found the perfect one. Zayn had called him earlier to remind him that Rosco's was casual and fancy. Maybe a nice suit, he had said. Harry decides on his new booties, the headscarf (as he was demanded to wear by Nick), a pair of black skinny jeans, and a loosely fitting (but nice) white t-shirt. Zayn couldn't possibly wear something fancier than that, could he? Probably a nice sweater, if that.

Harry has never been the one to take too long to look in the mirror, but tonight, Harry thinks he looks good. Which is a first. So, when Harry feels this sudden boost of confidence, he lingers by the mirror next to his door for a few seconds longer than he probably should. He tips upside down, gives his hair a couple more rustles and shakes, and flips back up again. Marvelous. Voluminous.

It's 6:47 when Harry decides to leave. He can't wait to drive there. He's more excited about driving there than seeing Zayn and eating at Rosco's, which is pretty typical. He changes up the music a bit when he starts up the car, and instead of his usual, he plays Amy Winehouse. More specifically, Valerie. And after that, he's on a song bender. From Sweet Disposition to Save My Heart, Harry's music is flopping from crazy indie alternative to pop to rock to ballads. And he's okay with it, because he's driving. And he could care less.

But, not to anyone's surprise, his lack of directional skills has gotten him off track. Harry is now parked in an dimly lit parking lot, trying to navigate his way through the GPS on his phone. Figures.

Louis, on the other hand, had left his apartment promptly 20 minutes before arrival time. Rosco's is a place he's been a few times, so he really doesn't have a problem getting there.

Then there's Zayn. Zayn. Zayn who is supposedly meeting Harry for a date at 7:00 at Rosco's and meeting Louis for a date at 7:00 at Rosco's. Zayn, who at the moment, is doing neither. Instead, Zayn is nestled up in the arms of his boyfriend, awaiting 2 dreaded calls, which he'll gracefully decline. Zayn, who believes right at this moment, that he is the mastermind of all plans. And Zayn, who is completely, utterly, and strangely  _right._


	4. Chapter 4

Ding.

'I'm here, you shit. Answer your phone.'

Ding.

'Zaaaayn. Where are you mate? It's 7:05. I'm actually early.'

Ding.

'If you're not here in 10 minutes I'm leaving. I've got a couple seasons of Friends to watch.'

Ding.

'Actually, I'll stay and eat, you shit. I'll grab us the table.'

4 messages sit on Zayn's screen. 3 from Louis. 1 from Harry. Typical. Harry's too nice to nag someone.

"Yeah, 'erm, I'm here for Malik? Yeah, should be a table for two." Harry patiently waits by the hostess stand to be seated. Might as well sit down while he waits for Zayn. No point in letting their reservations go to waste. 

"Sorry to bother you mate, but I overheard you say you're here for Malik?" A calming voice speaks from behind Harry's shoulder. A tap follows.

"Yeah, I, um, my friend Zayn Malik. 'Erm, so, um-"

" _I'm_ here for Malik."

Harry's heart stops. What the  _hell_ is going on.

Louis' heart stops and drops even further. He fucking  _knew_ it. He's all dolled up, suit and tie, quiff up to the highest possible point he could make it. And here he is. And here Zayn isn't.

"I, 'erm, I'm confused."

"As am I, my friend."

Harry shakily pulls out his phone from his pocket. Nothing. Nothing from Zayn. Not even a peep.

Louis does the same. And as with Harry, Louis has received nothing.

"Your table is ready, sir. Right this way." The hostess calls to Harry. Harry can't help but shrug at Louis, and motion him to tag along. So, Louis does.

"Here's your table. Your server will be right with you."

"Thank you," Harry kindly smiles at the hostess. Immediately, he turns to Louis, who is across from him. They're sitting in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. It's pretty crowded, so the noise fills up the gap of silence between the two boys. And the night hasn't even started.

" _Fucking hell,_ " Louis mutters under his sweater paws of suit. "I genuinely thought Zayn was coming. I guess I suspected something this whole time. 've been receiving these weird fucking packages all day. Complete shit."

"Yeah, yeah me too," Harry says awkwardly. It's hard to talk right now, not only because this situation is completely awful, but also because Harry finds Louis strangely attractive. Like,  _really_ strangely attractive. It's hard to focus, kind of attractive.

"Well, fuck him. Let's have a good night. 'M Louis. Tomlinson."

"Harry Styles. Lovely to meet you."

"And same to you. Zayn's a little shit, isn't he? Got us fooled this whole time. Kind of odd how we've never met, ey? Both our best mate, 'n we've never met. Sorry, 'm rambling."

"No, no don't apologize. Rambling is fine. I guess we're both, 'erm, confused right now. So it's okay to ramble."

"You're cute, Styles. Too nice for me."

Harry can't help but blush. One of the most attractive men he has ever laid his eyes on just called him cute. Fuck.

"As are you, Tomlinson. I must say, you've put yourself together quite well for this "date"," Harry says, raising his hands to two quotation marks up in the sky. 

"Why thank you, love. Nice headscarf. Haven't seen those in ages."

Harry isn't sure whether to take it as a compliment or insult, so he leaves it be. Instead, he brings up music. One of his favorite things to talk about.

"Alright, completely random, but what kind of music do you like? Like, give me a song."

"Hmm, 've got to say... mm.. any song by the Fray. More specifically, Look After You. Or How to Save a Life. Can play  _that_ one on the piano. Quite good, if I say so myself. Just thought I'd add that in there. Spice up the conversation."

"You'll have to show me sometime," Harry flirts, "The Fray. Hmm. How interesting."

"Hey, don't be so quick to judge. And what is  _your_ music type, Styles? You seem to have more knowledge and understanding of the art of music than I do."

"Don't ask. I love everything. But, erm, I guess my favorite band is the 1975. You've probably never heard of them. And I listen to my friends' mixtapes a lot. He's got good songs. They play them on the radio sometimes."

"Name one."

"A song? Like, which-"

"The 1975. Doubt 've ever heard them, but give it a go. Don't give me a name of your friends' mixtapes because I'll never know that one."

"Oh, um, do you know, Chocolate? or The City? I guess those are the most popular ones, um, they're the more commonly known ones."

"Sing it for me."

"Oh, I, um, I don't sing, really. I just listen."

Before Louis can speak again, their waitress appears. Drinks come first, then Louis and Harry can decide what they want to eat.

Louis goes first. "I'll have the chicken wrapped in parma ham, please."

"And for your side?" the waitress asks.

"A side of your homemade mash. Best 've ever had."

"Why thank you, darling. I'll take your menu. And for you, sir?"

"I'll have the same," Harry says without hesitation.

"Interesting," Louis smirks at him. Harry rolls his eyes. Maybe this won't be a long night after all.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Their food hasn't arrived yet. It's been over 30 minutes, but they've kept the conversation lively. It's like they've known each other for ages. But then, out of the blue, Louis brings up the worst thought Harry thinks he has heard in his entire life.

"So, Styles. Get this. What if, to fuck with Zayn, that shit, we pretended to date? Like, to make him think this all went better than expected you know? Not that I don't or wouldn't ever fancy you, babe. You're cute."

And there it was. The punch in the gut Harry had been expecting all night. Things hadn't ever gone well for Harry, and this was one of those instances. 

"I, um, I guess? I mean, isn't that kind of, like, awkward? Don't you think we'd have to, 'erm, be like affectionate? I don't know if its your best idea, Tommo. This is kind of, you know, um, out of the blue? We were getting on so well."

"Oh, shush. I'm a genius. And don't get too ahead of yourself, Harry. We're friends now."

And that's what they would be. To Louis, at least. Harry had fancied Louis from the second he saw him. But, unfortunately, the lack of dates and shags Harry had was the inevitable downfall of what could have been. He should've known Louis wasn't that kind of guy. No one had ever taken much interest in Harry Styles. Just a boring (but nice) lad from Cheshire.

"Yeah, I guess that'll be fun."

"Great, oh great. I'm excited now. We ca-"

Just as Louis is devising more of his evil plan, the waitress stops over with their food. 2 large plates of chicken, wrapped in parma ham, stuffed with mozzarella cheese, with a side of homemade mash.

"Here's your orders, loves. Enjoy!"

Harry nods and smiles at the waitress, and stares at his plate. He's lost his appetite.

"So," Louis muffles through a mouth stuffed with mashed potatoes, "where were we? Oh, right! I was thinking, like, what if we stopped at Zayn's flat on the way home. Just to show him up, yeah? We'll figure out the details as we go. And then, like after two months or so, we can have this messy breakup and blame it all on Zayn. And then that's when we'll tell him!"

Harry can't help but pick out only the bits and pieces of the jumble of words Louis has just proposed.

"Two months? That's, uh, kind of a long time to play out this charade don't you think?"

"Two months is nothing, Haz. Believe me."

So, Harry does. Harry believes that they can prank Zayn and get back at him for this awful setup. What a shit job he did.

"Alright, I, um I guess I believe you. Yeah, I trust you. Let's do this."

"Fuck! You're the best, thank you. Zayn is going to be piiiiissed let me tell you that! Ah, fuck, I'm excited for this."

It's about 9 when they pay the check to leave. They split the bill. Classy. They wave a cab down and pile in, explaining the directions to Zayn's flat to the driver, and continue preparing their devious plan.

"Alright, uh, so when we walk in, we'll be, like, kissing?" Harry nervously proposes.

"Fine by me. You act like you've never kissed a guy before."

"Been a while."

"Yeah, fuck, same goes. I'm so fucking horny all the time."

Harry stops for a second with a shortness of breath. God, does Louis turn him on.

"Yeah, yeah me too. I guess we'll just go with the flow?"

"Sounds perfect to me. Just don't let Zayn suspect a thing, or I'll beat your fucking ass."

"Tempting," Harry jokes. Louis doesn't find it quite funny. Harry isn't exactly the funniest guy on earth. But Louis, on the other hand, might be up there with the best.

It's around 9:12 when they arrive at Zayn and Liam's flat. Harry just hopes they aren't there, and that he can politely bail now. But something is stopping him. And that something is the beautiful creature he's been blessed with. Louis fucking Tomlinson.


	6. Chapter 6

So, yeah, maybe Harry is a little whipped for Louis.

They're waiting outside of Zayn and Liam's flat door now and Harry can't seem to pull himself together. He keeps telling Louis that he doesn't think its a good idea.

"Lou, I, um, not to like spoil your plan or anything, but I don't know if this is a good idea, like, I don't really know you that well and its not like I don't want to but I haven't really kissed someone in a while now and I just find you really endearing but I really don't know if we want to do this because I mean we could surely get to know each other without having to do this and I-"

It takes one kiss to shut Harry Styles up for good. Louis grabs his face out of nowhere and plants one smack dab on his lips and then continues this smacking and dabbing until Harry Styles has shut himself up.

"Well, um, that was unexpected."

"Well, that's me. I'm pretty unexpected. Expect the unexpected, I always say. You ready now?"

"Er, yeah I guess so. Sure."

Harry still wasn't ready but he was more ready than he had been 5 minutes ago. 

"Okay, on the count of three we'll bust in okay. Like in those movies, where they bust down the door. Not literally, but we'll do it okay? Just go with the flow love, this is gonna be a fun ride. I promise you."

Harry just nods, but on the inside, he feels like his heart is going to fall out. It's a lot to swallow, because Harry doesn't exactly know how or why he got himself into this, and why he's letting it happen. But, god damn, is Louis Tomlinson one son of a bitch.

Harry's out of it when Louis counts to 3, but that's okay, because Louis' got his back and has him already pinned up against the wall on the inside of Zayn's flat. The lights are off, but in one flick, they're on, and Zayn and Liam aren't there. Well, they're there, but not where Louis was hoping they'd be. 

"Fuck, they're in Zayn's room," Louis says, pulling away from the kiss. Harry's hands are still on Louis' waist after being pushed against the wall. You'd think Zayn or Liam would've heard something by now. "Let's move closer, eh? Got nothing to lose, Styles."

Harry kind of likes being a daredevil with Louis. He's dangerous, and Harry likes it. A lot.

As Louis guides Harry and himself throughout the flat, Louis catches sight of Zayn and Liam curled up in Zayn's bed, watching a movie. The volume is up so loud that Louis has to scream when he pulls Harry against the door of Zayn's room saying, "Now kiss me you fool!"

It takes Zayn not even a second before he's on the floor, laughing his guts out at the sight of his 2 best mates giving it a go right outside his bedroom. But, as planned, Zayn believes it. And so does Liam.

"What. The. Fuck." Liam groans, as he catches sight of the boys. All Zayn can do is smirk at Liam, who rolls his eyes, and says, "Will you two get a room?"

Louis finally pulls away from their sloppy kisses to say, "Oh, fuck, sorry mate. Didn't see you there. Didn't know the room was occupied."

"Fuck you, Louis."

"Got a room for 2?" Harry adds on. Even though these kisses are fake, he sure does enjoy Louis' lips. And, god, his fucking body. It's so gentle yet so strong and Harry wishes he could hold him forever. His ass, too. It's fucking huge. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen a guy with that big of an ass. Louis' tongue is also one of a kind, he's noticed. It's rough, but so desirable. Harry just wants Louis. All of him. He just wants him inside him. But, that's never going to happen. Louis isn't into him like that. Like he had said, this was all an act. A charade.

"C'mon, Haz. Let's go upstairs," Louis says, also speaking to Zayn out of the corner of his eye. He winks before he takes Harry's hand and runs him up the stairs.

"Holy shit, good fucking job, mate. You didn't fuck it up. Proud of you."

"Erm, thanks Lou, I guess."

"No need to thank me. We've got 'em now."

Harry lets out a shy smile as Louis opens the door to the guest bedroom upstairs. 

"Let's have a go, shall we?"

"Louis, I, um, I don't think that's the best idea, erm, we're at Zayn's flat, and they can hear us, and also this is fake if you've forgotten and-"

"Love, love, shush. We don't actually have to do anything legit, it's just to fuck with Zayn. Fucking jump on the bed and moan, really, be my guest." Louis says in reply with a smirk. Harry is so whipped for this kid that he's barely known for even a day. But he's gorgeous. And he's got a big butt, which in Harry's mind, is overwhelmingly beautiful. Not that he was looking at it, or anything. No way.

So, and the two boys entered the guest room upstairs, Louis, being Louis, climbs on top of the neatly put together bed and starts jumping. Hard. Like, you could hear it in the flat next door (probably) hard. 

"Haaaaarry come on!" Louis tries to whisper over the creaks of his bouncing. Then, as Harry sees coming, Louis starts to moan. Loud loud.

"You dickhead, keep it down. Zayn knows I'm not that good at sex." Harry smirks.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Styles. I'll be the judge of that."

God, Louis turns on Harry so bad. It's bad enough that Harry has managed to spend an entire dinner and fake bedroom sex with Louis fucking Tomlinson, a gorgeous human being that he has happened to come across only once in his life. And that night is tonight. And somehow, on this night, Harry finds himself head over heels for this boy and the fake sexual tension that is currently making his dick twitch in desire. But Harry isn't that easy, is he? Louis has gotten to him so easily. Harry is easy for Louis. But he figures Louis isn't easy for Harry, until he spontaneously decides to turn around and suggest to Louis, "Fuck it, I can't do this. Let's do it."


End file.
